


Fireworks Burn Brighter Elsewhere in America

by LovelessLadyLazarus



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, Humour, M/M, Nonbinary Marquis de Lafayette, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:34:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25527514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelessLadyLazarus/pseuds/LovelessLadyLazarus
Summary: Angelica is plotting something. So is Alex. Speaking of him, what happened between him, John Laurens and Eliza? What's up with the guy in the red suit? Also some other characters sprinkled in just for good measure.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler (past), Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens, George III of the United Kingdom/Samuel Seabury, Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette/Hercules Mulligan, Thomas Jefferson/James Madison
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	1. Alex, his whole Ordeal with Amazon and the undead Guy not two Table further

Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr had started the café just after the former’s divorce and the latter’s marriage. They had met in collage, both had been studying law, and developed a bond due to mutual irritation. So, they had stayed friends even after they became professional rivals. After Alex’ now ex-wife Eliza had divorced him, apparently on grounds of him shagging his ex John Laurens, which was a fishy situation for a number of reasons, Burr had comforted him with sinfully expensive booze and scrabble. Alex liked playing games he won. Strangely enough, a week after the papers were signed was Burr’s wedding to a woman named Theodosia, who had been previously married to some British twat, as Burr had described him. Of course, their mutual, well friend may be pushing it, Thomas Jefferson had insisted they ought to have a twin divorce party, the week after the wedding. And because Jefferson had more swagger than the rest of them could ever hope for, all of them dressed up in the most ridiculous outfits and depending on who you were you drunk Champaign hat ranged from piss poor to extravagant. Then Jefferson had left for France, Alex and Burr had opened the café and Eliza’s sister Angelica became their landlady. 

**

The air is crisp and clear and it’s sinfully early as Aaron Burr makes his way through the door to their little café. Alex is already up and running and seemly gotten himself into another argument with some costumers. “Aaron,” he grins as Burr passes, “there’s a coffee pot on the shelf over,” he vaguely points in the direction of the private room. Burr nods, still too tired to come up with anything meaningful. Not that Alex seems to mind, he always had been a morning person, “Now Mr-I’m-wearing-a-short-sleeve-shirt-and-a-tie-which-certainly-does-not-make-me-look-like-a-pedofile-thank-you-very-much has some rather contradictory views about the redistribution of wealth. As if we were to follow his plan, it may be true that we could temporarily decrease the amount of the amount of tax money wasted, yet the only true way of solving our nation’s money issues is to finally get companies like Google, Starbucks, Apple, Amazon, among many others to pay their fucking taxes.”

Aaron could never decide if Alex was a good waiter or not. Alex could muster up an enthusiasm that did even rival that of their dear Sam Seabury at times, but somehow he also couldn’t help himself but eavesdrop on the customers’ conversations and of course had to offer some of his own opinions which no one asked for. They lost many potential patrons due to this habit. Not even getting into a fight, which had sent him into hospital with a shattered wrist and two broken ribs could break his habit. Unfortunately, he had only half-listened to Alex’s earlier words, thus just nods again “Is that your new goal, destroying Amazon?” 

Alex looks at him, in that way, that Aaron knows he is plotting something that would become disastrously painful for everyone else in his near surroundings. “Please don’t give him ideas.” Sam appears next to him, seemingly out of nowhere, clad in a smile so bright it ought to be illegal for this time of morning and hands him a steaming cup of coffee. He puts his arm around Burr’s shoulder and leads him back. “I’m being serious, don’t give him ideas. Remember the last demonstration?”

Burr does, all too well, Alex made all of them get up at four O’clock in the morning and get out onto times square to protest for gay rights and against Apple’s new headphone ports. Naturally it had been raining, and naturally Angelica had been the only intelligent one, so had known not to come.

**

The morning continues in a quiet manner, except that Alex seems to be taking his destroy Amazon idea to heart and before noon, everyone on their staff and all their regulars seem to have already had to suffer through a long-winded speech. 

“What’s he up to now?” Angelica asks James Madison, another staff member, who due to his unstable health, never gets morning shifts, not that Burr is jealous. Madison is also the closest thing to sanity they have, which is rather impressive, as he did date the currently missing in action Thomas Jefferson, though no one could truly decide if the long-distance relationship was helping or damaging Madison’s mental health. 

“He’s got some crazy idea about destroying Amazon,” Madison shrugs.

Angelica bites her lip and sips her coffee and Madison knows that she is not oppose to the idea. Alex and Angelica got each other in a way that few people did, but then he cheated on her sister and Thomas moved away and suddenly it was him, who she spent her lunch breaks sitting on the pavement behind the café. After a while she looks up and says, “He’s gonna need a shot gun for that and a lot of paper.”

He side-eyes her, wonders if this is something he doesn’t understand because he doesn’t know her nearly as well as he likes to pretend or if she is just talking nonsense to soften the blow. “Should I let him know?”

She laughs, thankfully. “Nah, he’s gotta figure that one out on his own. James be a dear and reserve that table by the window for me, Eliza and Peggy are coming over later, and we might want some coffee.” She smiles again, almost too kind, before she gets up and disappears back into the building. 

**

In the 20 minutes Madison has been outside the café all hell seems to have broken loose. All hell in this case retained to a strange man in a red suit who looked like he had gone on an all-night bender and had seemingly dropped dead on one of their tables. Even from afar it was obvious that his suit was made from a material more expensive than the rest of their clothing combined. He had pale blond hair, which had probably been tied into a ponytail, at one point or another. A small crowd had gathered around the strange man and was gossiping in hushed tones. 

“Who is that?” Alex asks, for the first time since the early morning seeming actually interested in something other than himself. 

“A big deal, that’s for sure. Or have you ever seen a crowd that large just to take pictures of just any dishevelled drunk?” Burr sips his coffee, “probably some crazy rich guy.”

Madison joins them at their table, “As long as he won’t vomit all over the floor, I’m not complaining.”

“Great, we’ve established he’s rich, question is, what’s his face?”

Burr looks at Alex mockingly, “You want a sugar daddy, Alex? What does your artist not quite cut it?”

Before Alex gets to phrase a no doubt legendary rebuttal, leaving Burr at nothing but a burnt crisp and the rest of the world shooketh to the core for the next five months at least Sam interrupts, “I think he’s kinda cute.”

“No way,” Madison mutters, he lets his head sink onto the polished wood of their table. No one had ever seen Sam Seabury attracted to anything. Hell, he was sure Sam was just a wide-eyed five-year old who had made a deal with some dark wizard and was now stuck in the body of a grown man half the time. Why was no one reacting to this revelation?

“So, do you think he’ll actually wake up?” Burr side-eyes their customer critically. O right, the dying man not five metres away. 

“Of course,” a slightly irritated voice answers. It seemed Angelica had snuck into the café after Madison. She had always had an uncanny ability to sense any sort of drama and subsequently be drawn to it like a moth to the flame.

“Why,” then Burr paddled back, “don’t you look gorgeous on this fine day.”

Angelica pays him no mind and continues, “but I bet you’re gonna have to drag him off that table before the day is out. I’d try to string him with liquor if I were you.” And she’s gone.

“In that state I’m not sure we’ll ever be rid of him,” Alex shrugs.

“You think he’s actually dead?” Sam exclaims in shock.

“Nah, but he’ll be laying there for at least the next three days.” Burr takes another sip of coffee.

“you wanna bet Aaron?” Alex studies him, “also, was that coffee meant for a customer?”

“But the real question here is: is he straight?” Burr deflects, “asking for a friend.” They laugh, except Sam who has gone redder than the lipstick Angelica wore at their last Christmas party. 

Alex gives him a pointed look, “In that suit, he is either returning from his dreadfully, embarrassingly lame bachelor party, was actually wearing a white suit but got some red wine on it and decided that the best course of action was to simply douse himself with it or has just been cast as the Joker and is really into method acting. I’ll leave it up for you to decide” He gets back up and so do the rest of them.

**

John Laurens shows up later that afternoon. He walks up to Alexander, puts an arm around his shoulder and kisses his cheek. With his long dark hair and his even darker, always slightly wistful looking eyes, he really did look like some long-suffering artist. Well, dating Alex that shouldn’t be a surprise. Though Alex falling into the other’s arms, for once looking so at peace, he may even be satisfied, is definitely a sight for sore eyes. Alex loved Laurens and not much else in the world.

“Hey Alex, have you ever considered that everyone allowing their partners free drinks might not be the best business model?” Burr askes as Alexander vanishes into the kitchen to make one of those pretentious coffees exclusively drunken by hippies and bohemians. 

Alex adds some low-fat soy milk as well as some coconut and caramel hazelnuts into the blend, “funny, you never seem to complain about all the free services Eliza gets.”

“Free coffee is the least you can do for her.”

Alex studies his face in a way that tells him, his opposite believes he knows nothing of anything, especially not the things he believes he does, before adding some cream to the coffee and leaving him stranded. He did never find out what exactly happened between Alex, Eliza and Laurens. Not that anyone else knew (except maybe Angelica, who tends to know everything), but everyone had a theory, what he did know was Laurens would joke about it, if he could. It had to be serious. 

**

“Thanks,” Laurens leans up for a kiss. His lips taste of coffee, but he smells like acrylic paint and old paintbrushes. Alex does his best to inhale the scent. Looking down at his open sketchbook, Alex can see Laurens has already started sketching their new rather perculier visitor. He drew all their customers, but mostly Alex. He would spend hours sitting at a corner table, overlooking the café sketching their clientele. Sam had suggested they hang up some of the drawings, but Burr had dismissed them as slightly creepy. Alex had argued they were flattering, a feud broke out, which had almost resulted in the burning of the café, twice. “So, who is he?”

Alex fell into the chair opposite John, “Some crazy billionaire, who died at that tables. Honestly, I’m surprised paparazzi hasn’t flooded the place yet.”

“Is that true or are you just speculating?” He asks cautiously. Alex shrugs. “We’re running a betting pool on if and when he’s gonna get up. Hit Burr up if you wanna contribute.”

“I’m good, starving artist’s money, I have to keep up the appearance. Anyway, dead or not he’s a much better model than you are. Say if he actually is dead, can I have the body?”

Alex looks at him discontentedly, “How is this pre-acid-bath-Joker impersonator a better model than me?”

Laurens grins, “he doesn’t move, duh.” He giggled at Alexanders shocked expression, “but don’t worry darling, you are still the most attractive person in the room, apart from me of course.”

“Of course,” Laurens leans forward, and they kiss over the table. 

Unfortunately, the peace doesn’t last long as Alex takes a gulp from Laurens’ coffee, “What gives?”

“It’s not like you’re paying for the drink,” he grins, “anyway I gotta back back to work or Madison might actually kill me.”

Laurens nods understandingly, “Yeah and at two corpses on one day in the same place might actually make the cops think, huh?”

“I doubt that’s actually within their capabilities,” they kiss again, “but, the body is yours, after I search it of course.”

“Of course,”

**

Peggy is the first Schuyler sister to appear and damn it she looks adorable in her overly large yellow sweater and fluffy boots. She stands in the middle of the café awkwardly for just long enough to be sure she was not in fact searching for anyone. She shrieks when Sam bumps into her and almost spills a half empty milkshake on her sweater, “hi,” she waves, visibly uncomfortable. 

“Peggy, it’s been so long!” Sam exclaims and proceeds to hug her, while skilfully balancing his tray out of reach. 

“Hi Sam,” she repeats, “Angelica said she reserved a table.”

“Of course,” he smiles follow me. “can I get you anything?” he asks after they arrive at Angelica’s favourite table, which was placed in a way it could observe the entire café and the area right outside, while being almost invisible to the patrons. 

“No, thank you, I’ll wait for-“ she never gets to finish her sentence as the door opens and a beautiful woman in a long pastel blue coat enters. As she turns and wipes a strand of her from her eyes, everyone in the room can feel the tension rise. Sam cringes when the door closes behind her. There’s a moment of absolute stillness, before Eliza spots them and another when she searches for Alex. When she doesn’t find him, she swiftly makes her way over to her sister’s table and sound and conversation resume as if nothing had happened. 

**

Angelica arrives but moments later (she probably observed the time-lapse with smug amusement). She sits, then smiles at her sisters in a way which is deliciously enigmatic, as she takes a sip of the coffee which is already waiting for her. When she doesn’t say anything Eliza opens the conversation, “It’s so lovely to see you both, at the same time no less,”

“You too,” Peggy smiles prettily.

Angelica leans back and licks her lips, “Honestly I couldn’t agree more.”

Leaning forward Eliza nudges her, “what are you plotting, Angelica?”

Angelica laughs, delighted that for once on this perculier day she isn’t asked about Alex and his ordeal of destroying Amazon or the undead guy not two tables further (the crowd had dispensed after not witnessing any motion for three and a half minutes, though Burr swore he had heard him snore at one point in time), “I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait until I’m at least three drinks in for me to tell you.”

Peggy hides her face in her hands and makes, she groans, “Am I gonna like this?”

Angelica’s eyes twinkle even brighter than before, if that is humanly possible, “You’re gonna love it!” 

**

That evening, just after closing time, they had just kicked out all remaining customers hiding under tables, who presumably had no place else to go, a miracle greater than Christ’s resurrection occurs, the miracle in question being the awakening of the man in the red suit. He opens his eyes, makes a sound somewhere in the midst of a whine and a yawn; his cheeks turn the colour of a ripe peach and Sam is just a little worried he might through up, but when he finally stops rubbing his eyes and mutters, “what time is it,”, Sam’s world grinds to a screeching halt as he realises two key things almost instantly. Firstly, Mr-I’m-wearing-more-red-than-Iron-Man-Deadpool-and-the-Falsh-combined is British, or at least he sounds British which was good enough in Sam’s book, he had always had a serious hard on for the accents across the pond. Secondly, his eyes are the most delightful shade of green. which has to be the most opulent and exuberant and thus the rarest eye-colour Sam has ever seen.

“You alright man?” Burr asks, giving the stranger a quizzical look.

“Where am I? What time is it? What am I doing here?” he replies, more to himself, than anyone else in the room.

“I can make you coffee,” Madison offers, though really he is struggling for an excuse to leave the room and not break out into a wildly inappropriate laughing fit, their mysterious visitors accent is absurdly snooty, even the most pompous of players of British period pieces had nothing on the man before them.

The man looks at him contemptuous, “I happen to drink tea, thank you very much.” He stares around in vague disgust, “where am I anyway?”

“They greatest city in the world!” Burr informs him. When the only reply he receives is a dubious stare he adds, “New York City.”

The stranger sighs in what must be the most snobbish manner anyone has ever expressed any misgivings, “I don’t think so.”

“Sir we will have to ask you to leave.” Sam isn’t sure if Alex would have said it regardless of if the man had insulted New York, however he has little time to think about that as, as he is trying to get up yet sways so severely Sam catches his arm and for a glorious moment their bodies touch. The man smells like liquor and flowers Sam doesn’t know the names of and he inhales the scent deeply in a way he hopes isn’t too creepy. 

A frown paints Madison’s face, “We could call you a cab?” 

“That is quite alright, I own a mobile phone myself.” He feels around in his suit pockets, “charming meeting all of you. Tootles,” 

He steps outside and immediately melts into the darkness of the autumn night, like a snowflake on bare skin. 

**

“Okay, that was weird,” Burr states as he and Madison are the last to leave the café, “I mean, who the fuck was that?”

Madison shrugs, “some drunk Brit, apparently,”

“We should find out who he was.”

He gives him a look, “how?” he pauses for dramatic effect, “what do you want to type into google, British man in red suit, kinda like Joaquin Phoenix’s Joker but also not like that?”

“Come on man, today was crazy!”

“Maybe it’s foreshadowing,” Madison shrugs again. 

Burr rolls his eyes so far back Madison is afraid they might fall from their sockets, “for what?”

“The future,”

“The Leonard Cohen Song? And they say you’re the sane one. Honestly, sometimes I wonder why I put up with you nutters.”

Because you have no one else to go to, all your friends are our friends too, and you don’t want to end up like Alex and Eliza, but he knows better than to say anything. Anyway, the same statement could probably be made for all of them, so what was the point?


	2. Treacherously Sober and Exceedingly Underestimated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laf and Hercules finally show up. Burr gets some drama I guess. More Kingsbury. Also a Halloween Party gets set into motion.

A week later Burr is dashing up the pavement; he is late, again and it’s not even early. He stops in surprise, the sign on the café door is still saying “You blew it, we’re closed” and voices can be heard arguing from inside, however he cannot make out any words. Checking his watch, he realises the time, before practically ramming in the door. He trips, suddenly paper spills all over the floor. In the mid-distance he can hear Madison coughing, Sam giggling and Alex making vague noises of displeasure. “The fuck?” is all he manages as the three emerge from the kitchen, none of them looking like they feel even remotely guilty for whatever just happened to him. 

“Now see what you’ve done Alexander!” Sam exclaims in a fashion so melodramatic it has to be intentional, “he could have died!”

Madison coughs (Burr had been wondering when that was going to begin) in a way he supposes may indicate disagreement, it’s a stretch but it’s there. 

He picks up one of the fallen flyers and sighs, it reads: “The destruction of our society is truly upon us. The only way to save our economy is to dismantle all large callous organisations and bring their money to the people. Support our brave efforts in forcing Amazon to relinquish its power and pay its rightful taxes…” Burr stops reading, “don’t you think you’re being a little overdramatic?”

Alex raises an eyebrow and stares at his fingernails, a position he knew to be very flattering. “You’ve got to take a stand for what you believe in Aaron.”

“By scribbling some half-baked speech onto a few pamphlets and pinning them to Angelica’s door?,” he turns towards the kitchen, “what happened in there?” The kitchen door is open, red light is seeping through it into the main room. 

“All I said is that I like shopping at Amazon!” Sam exclaims in a readily defensive manner.

“Do you?” Alex exclaims, “think about our retail industry Samuel! Do you want all little stores to be replaced with giant rapacious corporations? What will happen to all those people?” Burr has used the intervening time to peel himself off the floor which is fortunate, as Alex has started collecting his fallen flyers during his speech, in a way that assures Burr he would gladly step on him to get to the last ones from under the tables.

“Alex you must understand not everyone is as fortunate as you to live in New York-“ Sam starts but Alex had already left the café to repin his flyers to the door.

Burr sinks onto a sofa and groans. He had been up all night worrying about his pregnant wife, god Theodosia was pregnant, and he hadn’t even told the others yet, fuck they would be upset. He had no idea about children, had anyone ever been so exquisitely unprepared to be a father? As he buries his face in his hands, he feels a hand on his shoulder, “hey you alright?” Had Madison’s voice always been so unbelievably soothing? 

For a split second he believes he could actually just let loose and tell his friend about his troubles however then he remembers where he is and that they should have opened two hours ago, so just sighs and mutters, “I’m just tired. Was up all night.” 

Madison gives him an incredulous look, however thankfully doesn’t comment but makes his way towards the kitchen.

**

Instead of going back inside after reattaching his flyers Alex gets out his phone and call John Laurens. “Do you know what fucking time it is?” the other answers surprisingly quickly, his voice still groggy from sleep.

“It’s almost eleven John, high time to get up.”

Laurens lets lose a sigh of contempt, “I’m an artist I work at night.” A pause, “what do you want anyway?”

Alex gulps, “I threw a glass of jam at Sam.”

“You did what?” Laurens makes at sound that sound like an extremely exaggerated sob, “Why?”

“He was defending Amazon!” The phone beeps and John is gone. So much for dating an artist. “The next person I date is gonna be an accountant, someone who is actually gonna be awake when I need them.” He mutters before opening the door and reinserting himself into the war zone that was their café. 

**

As Burr turns the sign and people slowly begin to seep into their halls, Madison is toiling to remove the stain that decorated the kitchen door. The main problem wasn’t really that it was distasteful, though distasteful it was, no the main problem was, that he knew he would be the one who had to break it to Angelica, which would doubtlessly be ending in his premature demise. 

We should just paint the walls he decides after a humiliatingly long time of scrubbing, or just hang up a poster; nobody needs to know (especially not Angelica). Leaning against the backwall of the building he pulls the postcard from under his sweater. It’s from Paris, written in Thomas’ beautiful handwriting. When James closes his eyes and holds it close he has the feeling of being able to smell him, Thomas and all the word preserved for ever on a strip of cheaply printed cardboard. The card is sweet enough, if a little light on relevant information, though Thomas promises to be back before Halloween, which was some comfort at least.

He pins the card onto the fridge before going to work.

**

It’s a rare occurrence that Peggy and John Laurens converge; Peggy likes to stay out of zones of extreme conflict and John likes to stay out of Angelica’s clutches, both of them breaking their mantras simultaneously is highly unusual, thus Peggy is understandably surprised when she hears an obnoxiously loud whistle from one end of the café. 

“Peggy!” Laurens grins as she carefully seats herself opposite him, “how you been?”

She looks up from the take away coffee in her hand, “oh, just the usual,”

“What, treacherously sober and exceedingly underestimated?” She smiles, he laughs and she smells something on his breath. Her eyes dart to his coffee cup suspiciously. 

“Actually, rather busy,” she corrects him, while promptly getting out of her chair.

She is already a metre away when he calls after her, “You coming to the Halloween party, right?”

“What?”

He attempts to roll his eyes, however at his state of tipsy it’s more his head spinning on his neck, rather than his eyes in their sockets, “Halloween Party,” he repeats slowly. “ya know, we all dress up as the slutty mockery of some genuinely hardworking profession, because we think the costumes are sexy on a surface level.” She is still looking confused, “we’re doing that but with movie characters, feel free to bring Angelica and Eli-“ he stops himself and bites his lip, “feel free to bring your sisters.”

Peggy nods, “I’ll think about it,”

“Please show up Pegs,” he stares up at her with his doe eyes, “and tell Eliza to bring a date; hot and single right?” Peggy sighs in a frustrated manner, before doing a face heel turn and leaving him stranded. 

**

The café is drab when Hercules and Lafayette make their way through the back door, the only source of light is a dingy neon lamp at the end of the corridor. “Darling, might it be better to not investigate the creepy murder café run only partly by people who call themselves our friends?” Lafayette says with a suspiciously lifted eye-brow.

Hercules looks back at them, “we’ll be fine besides we were invited.”

Remaining entirely unconvinced, Lafayette counters “Robb Stark was invited to the Red Wedding and we all know how well that turned out for him.” Hercules does not dignify that answer with a response, instead he proceeds inwards. “If we die in here I want it engraved on my tombstone that I knew this endeavour to be fatal, yet chose it with honour, while you marched into your death blindly oblivious.”

“What?” Hercules looks back at them in mock shock, though his expression is masks by obscurity anyway, “we’re not sharing a grave?”

“Most certainly not, mon Chérie, and now come on.”

**

John Laurens is present, physically at least, he is leaning against a wall in the main room, lips slightly parted, staring into the mid distance. His head turns in a spastic manner as Hercules and Lafayette emerge from the darkness, “sup?” he mutters while waving one hand drunkenly. 

Lafayette raises an eyebrow critically, but Hercules doesn’t seem to mind John’s state, “is that any way to greet your old friends?” he accuses playfully, before pulling John into a tight hug, “John Laurens I haven’t seen you in ages.”

“And I’m not sure if he’s seeing you now, “Lafayette shakes their head, “he’s got that dead look in his eyes, I’m thinking zombie apocalypse perhaps.”

“And you’ve just got plain dead eyes!” John counters, not very effectively.

Alex laughs as he enters the room, carrying a bottle of cheap champagne and four glasses “I see you are all getting along beautifully.”

“Alex!” Lafayette exclaims before throwing themselves into his arms, “you’re magnificent.” Alex and Lafayette have history, history as in sharing a desperately depressing shed for nine months and almost falling into bed together way more times than either of them were comfortable admitting, yet thankfully always backing out before things could become irrevocably awkward. When things had turned from just awkward to utterly unbearable after a night of downing liquor like a drowning man swallows sea water, they’d realised the situation would probably escalate if no immediate action was taken. Alex had left but promised they’d still be best friends, and his word was Lafayette’s command. “So, what’s up with all the eerie shit?”

“Halloween thought I’d get us into the mood,” John slurs somewhere from the dimness.

Hercules laughs, though it more so strikes at being a sound of despair rather than anything else, “why do I get the feeling I’m stuck at the beginning of a really uncomfortable porno?” 

**

It’s a little later, people are either more sober (John), less sober (Laf), alcohol seems to have no effect on them (Hercules) or have been too busy talking to actually take a sip (Alex).

“Okay, okay,” Lafayette slurs, “guest are gonna be us four of course,“ they look around in mild disgust, ”since we are celebrating here, Burr and Theodosia, Madison is gonna bring Jefferson, that’s gonna go smoothly and Sam will…” They shrug. “Did I forget any one?” 

“This may seem unthinkable to you, but Sam did actually show some attraction to the d-list glam rock Kurt Cobian impersonator who we thought died on one of our table not two weeks ago.” Alex announced with an air of smugness in his tone, emphasised by him finally taking a sip from his glass.

A disapproving sound escapes John’s throat, “How dare you! He looked nothing like Kurt Cobain, more like the physical manifestation of flex culture and the phrase I’m trying too hard.”

Alex stares at his fingernails, “D-list, my dearest, it implies not very good.” 

“Darling,” John shakes his head, “I just don’t see why you would even make the connection.”

“Anyway,” Laf swiftly centres focus back to them, “that’s ten people then, supposing they will reunite, right?”

John clears his throat awkwardly, then clears it again, “I may have invited the Schuyler sisters,”

“What!” three heads spin around in unison staring back at John Laurens. 

He stares at his feet uncomfortably, “Peggy looked like she needed it, besides we’re already inviting Jefferson, might as well invite Angelica.”

Ironically his admittedly rather pathetic attempt at a justification aids conflict more than it quenches it as everyone around him begins talking vehemently almost simultaneously. Who would have guessed? 

Alex: So that adds an uncertainty factor as large as six people to our plan, we may have an additional sixty percent of guest just arriving. How are we going to distribute our supplies accordingly, what if we don’t have enough booze to go round? We need to come up with a plan to combat these ambiguities that does not involve me having to interact with anyone named Schuyler and fast.

Hercules: Angelica is a lady, how there you compare her to Thomas fucking Jefferson? Have you no respect John Laurens? Also, do you really want to spend the night avoiding her glares, while your boyfriend hides in the dishwasher moping?

Laf: Taking bets, how many people are gonna die here this Halloween? Taking bets!

**

No one expects the man in red to return, least of all himself judging by his expression. He staggers towards a table and for a moment Sam is afraid he might faint again however he manages to sit and looks surprisingly steady. He waves, so Sam waves back, until he realises he is dressed as a waiter and the man probably wants to order. 

“Hello,” Sam grins his friendliest Cheshire Cat impersonation as he approaches the table, “welcome to-“

“Yes, yes very good,” the man interrupts immediately, “I want Earl Grey with milk, none of those utter ridiculousies that you Americans tend to ruin your tea with, do you understand?” Sam nods. “Brilliant also I would like a teapot please as well as a proper tea cup, would that be possible?” He smiles and Sam begins to understand his way of life a little better. That smile could move mountains and is worth risking Angelica’s wrath for.

**

“He returned!”

“What?” Lafayette yanks the phone away from their ear as Alex screams through from the other side. 

“Sam’s blond Clown Princeling of Crime. And guess what, he’s wearing another red suit! Also, what I think is a real fur coat.”

“Oh,” Laf licks their lips, “please send photographic evidence.”

“I will, I think they’re flirting. It’s really cute but really horrifying at the same time. Even Angelica came to watch. On that note I ought to hide, bye.”

And he’s gone, typical, Laf leans back and waits for the images to flood their phone. 

**

“Here’s your tea, milk and I also brought you this éclair, they’re self-mad and lovely.”

“Oh, thank you,” the man smiles his glorious smile again, “how thoughtful of you, it does look ravishing.” 

Sam shivers at the last word, “it was actually made by our baker Madison, his cooking is spectacular,” he brabbles on desperately trying to keep the conversation with the handsome, familiar stranger going. The man doesn’t answer, but his tongue darts out to lick his elegant lips, it takes Sam a couple of seconds to realise he must have spaced out again, “anyway, call me if you need anything else.”

As he is exiting he turns around just long enough to see the man blow him a kiss, a feral grin painting his lips. 

When Sam returns to the table not half an hour later, the man has dissolved into his surroundings, leaving behind nothing but an emptiness occupied by only the smell of lavish cologne and the outrageous amount of money left on the table. He smiles to himself, then decides they ought to order new and improved tea bag; earl grey, lots of earl grey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading.   
> I decided Peggy and John Laurens had to friends because Jazzy and Anthony are adorable. Also Laf is just really snarky all the time and may make some more GoT references depending on how I feel. Otherwise this is fun but also really stressful, I appreciate any freedback.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, that you so much for reading. So what's gonna happen next? I need help! I wanna introduce Maria, but do I ship her with Peggy or Eliza? Thomas will show up around half way through. What about Hercules and Lafayette? So many questions!


End file.
